World Without End Page 0,332

- but it's nothing like it used to be. Luckily, the trade in finished cloth has grown to replace it, in this town at least."

"Is Godwyn still prior?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Is he still making difficulties?"

"He's so conservative. He objects to any change and vetoes all progress. For example, Mark proposed opening the market on Saturday as well as Sunday, as an experiment."

"What possible objection could Godwyn have to that?"

"He said it would enable people to come to market without going to church, which would be a bad thing."

"Some of them might have gone to church on Saturday too."

"Godwyn's cup is always half empty, never half full."

"Surely the parish guild opposes him?"

"Not very often. Elfric is alderman now. He and Alice got almost everything Edmund left."

"The alderman doesn't have to be the richest man in town."

"But he usually is. Remember, Elfric employs lots of craftsmen - carpenters, stonemasons, mortar makers, scaffolders - and buys from everyone who trades in building materials. The town is full of people who are more or less bound to support him."

"And Elfric has always been close to Godwyn."

"Exactly. He gets all the priory's building work - which means every public project."

"And he's such a shoddy builder!"

"Strange, isn't it?" Madge said in a musing tone. "You'd think Godwyn would want the best man for the job. But he doesn't. For him, it's all about who will be compliant, who will obey his wishes unquestioningly."

Merthin felt a bit depressed. Nothing had changed: his enemies were still in power. It might prove difficult for him to resume his old life. "No good news for me there, then." He stood up. "I'd better take a look at my island."

"I'm sure Mark will seek you out as soon as he returns from Melcombe."

Merthin went next door for Lolla, but she was having such a good time that he left her with Dora, and strolled through the town to the riverside. He took another look at the cracks in his bridge, but he did not need to study them long: the cause was obvious. He made a tour of Leper Island. Little had changed: there were a few wharves and storehouses at the west end and just one house, the one he had lent to Jimmie, at the east end, beside the road that led from one span of the bridge to the other.

When he first took possession of the island, he had had ambitious plans for developing it. Nothing had happened, of course, during his exile. Now he thought he could do something. He paced the ground, making rough measurements and visualizing buildings and even streets, until it was time for the midday meal.

He picked Lolla up and returned to the Bell. Bessie served a tasty pork stew thickened with barley. The tavern was quiet, and Bessie joined them for dinner, bringing a jug of her best red wine. When they had eaten, she poured him another cup, and he told her about his ideas. "The road across the island, from one bridge to the other, is an ideal place to put shops," he said.

"And taverns," she pointed out. "This place and the Holly Bush are the busiest inns in town simply because they are close to the cathedral. Any place where people are continually passing by is a good location for a tavern."

"If I built a tavern on Leper Island, you could run it."

She gave him a direct look. "We could run it together."

He smiled at her. He was full of her good food and wine, and any man would have loved to tumble into bed with her and enjoy her soft, round body; but it was not to be. "I was very fond of my wife, Silvia," he said. "But, all the time we were married, I kept thinking about Caris. And Silvia knew it."

Betty looked away. "That's sad."

"I know. And I'll never do it to another woman. I won't get married again, unless it's to Caris. I'm not a good man, but I'm not that bad."

"Caris may never marry you."

"I know."

She stood up, picking up their bowls. "You are a good man," she said. "Too good." She returned to the kitchen.

Merthin put Lolla to bed for a nap, then sat on a bench in front of the tavern, looking down the hillside at Leper Island, sketching on a big slate, enjoying the September sunshine. He did not get much work done because every other person who walked past wanted to welcome him